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Mountain Man's Accidental Baby Daughter (A Mountain Man's Baby Romance)

Page 93

by Lia Lee


  She cracked up laughing, which made him laugh harder. By the time their appetizers arrived, they were wiping away tears from their eyes.

  From the platter of cheese sticks and onion rings, Adrien picked the fattest onion ring. He bit into it hesitantly, letting it air out a bit. “So, any luck with the job hunt?”

  She sighed. “Not so much.”

  “You’re still sending out resumes, right?” He chewed thoughtfully on the onion ring. “I don’t want you spending all your time on finding my wife.”

  “No, I’m sending out resumes. It’s just…I haven’t heard back from anyone still.” Her shoulders sagged. “Sometimes I feel like I’ll never get into the classroom.”

  “Clara.” He kicked at her shoe beneath the table. Her eyes snapped up to his. “Don’t talk like that. It’ll happen. You have to believe it, though. If you don’t believe in it, nobody else will.”

  She bit into a cheese stick, a long string linking her lips to the stick. She mumbled something unintelligible.

  “That’s the spirit,” Adrien cracked, dipping a stick in marinara sauce.

  She swallowed, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. “I said, I know. You’re right. I’m not giving up.”

  “Do you want me to make any phone calls?”

  She shook her head, eyebrows furrowing into a hard line. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “It wouldn’t be very hard…”

  “Yeah, exactly.” She scoffed. “I can do this on my own, and I’m going to. I don’t want you swooping in to call the governor and save the town from ruin.”

  “I know the governor.”

  She cracked a smile. “I’m sure you do. And that’s my point exactly. I want to do this because I’m qualified, not because I know string-pullers. I have a vision. If anyone else gets involved, it won’t be mine.”

  “I admire that.” He snatched up another onion ring. “I’ll stay in the shadows until you need me, then.”

  She relaxed. “Thank you.” A few moments of comfortable silence went by as they finished off the plate of appetizers. Clara tapped her fingers against her chin, looking him up and down.

  “Yes?”

  “So who was your favorite blind date of the week?”

  He rolled his eyes. “No one.”

  “Were they that bad?”

  “I’m not criticizing your work. I saw why you paired me with each lady, and I commend you. But, honestly, the thought of even a business marriage with any one of them was terrifying.” He fiddled with his napkin, wondering how much more he should reveal. There was only one person in his world right now that fit the bill.

  With each passing day, he wished more and more that he hadn’t fucked things up so badly at the beginning. Not that he was complaining entirely—getting to know Clara was one of the bright spots in his life. But the closer they grew, the harder it would be to part. So why didn’t she just marry him anyway?

  Bringing it up again would be a bad move, though. One that might sever whatever it was that they had. And between losing Clara permanently soon and losing her permanently later, he’d choose later. Just give me more time with you.

  “So no second dates with anyone?” Clara sipped at her water. “I saved extra slots over the weekend if you were interested in getting to know any of them better. I have a lady on standby, too.”

  “This is a part-time job,” he muttered. One that would save him his fortune, if only he could find someone palatable enough to marry. “Set me up with the standby, I suppose. But make it earlier in the evening so we can do something afterward.”

  “You can’t get enough.” She lifted an eyebrow, a sexy smirk crossing her face. “These future wives might think you have a mistress.”

  “I do.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “One that I am going to caress in every way imaginable in mere hours.”

  “Mmm. Imaginable. There’s the accent again.”

  “Imaginable.”

  She drew a sharp inhale. “That’s dangerous, Adrien. Don’t force me to make a scene in the diner.”

  He licked his lips slowly, leaning forward. “Imaginable.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A week later, Clara was perched on the back of her couch, waiting for Katy to pick up the phone. She’d missed too many of her best friend’s calls since being in the throes of the billionaire prince. And if there was one thing she was not going to do, it was forsake her best friend.

  “There you are,” Katy said in lieu of hello. “Finally! I thought you’d fled town or something.”

  “I’m sorry.” Clara ran a hand through her hair, feeling buoyant and energized. It was her first time back in her own apartment in almost a week, and it looked like somebody else’s home. So much time with Adrien had cast a romantic glow over everything. Even the constantly damp bathroom was a little charming after so much time away. “I think I’ll have some time for catering next week. I just need a little bit more time.”

  “It’s okay. Take the time you need. We have plenty of on-call help that’ll be glad for the extra hours. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Are you still working with Adrien?”

  “I am. The project is a bit more intense than I imagined.” She gnawed at her lip. “I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, too. It’s been a whirlwind.”

  Katy laughed a little. “Of what sort?”

  “The sexual kind.” Clara slumped down onto the couch, visions of Adrien’s hands on her body clouding her mind. “He is a beast. In the good way.”

  “Will I ever get to meet him, or is this going to be your permanent little secret?” Katy laughed a little. “Maybe you’re making the whole thing up? Who knows?”

  “I couldn’t make this shit up.” Clara had only talked to Katy a handful of times since meeting Adrien, and given her the barest of details: they fucked, he wanted to get married, he made up to her, and now she was working for him. Too much more and she was worried Katy might get the wrong idea. But too little detail and Katy was sure to get the wrong idea.

  Problem was, Clara wasn’t even sure what the right idea was anymore. So much time with Adrien felt right, but the deadline loomed ever closer. He was no closer to making a decision on a business marriage, but each night they found new depths in one another. How was any of this supposed to make sense, much less to someone on the outside?

  “Why don’t you just marry him? I mean, if he asked you once, I’m sure he’s still into the idea.”

  Clara sighed, struggling to find the opposition within her. “I don’t know.”

  “It seems like you two are hitting it off. If you’re spending so much time together…”

  “Oh, so two weeks of getting along means we should commit ourselves to a lifetime together? I don’t want it to be like that. I don’t want to have to decide right now. I want to be in love. Why is that so much to ask anymore?”

  “It’s not. It’s just…you’re in a strange situation. Why not run with it?”

  “Because if I do, I’ll resent it someday. I know I will.” She gulped back a knot of emotion. The one promise she’d made to herself growing up was that she’d find her way, and that it would be her way. Marrying Adrien now would be pandering to his situation, forcing something that she desperately wanted to be pure and natural.

  “Then the answer is clear. Enjoy your time with him while you can.”

  “Yeah.” Her voice came out a whisper. “It’s just gonna be hard to end it.”

  After they spent some time catching up about things unrelated to Adrien, mind-blowing sex, and the wife hunt, the friends said good-bye and Clara reached for her laptop.

  She needed a break from the wife hunt, that was for sure. Nearly every waking moment was spent arranging dates and scouring newspapers, celebrity magazines, and LinkedIn for potential dates. When she wasn’t analyzing whether a potential date was too much of a socialite or not, she was hunting down job boards for biology teacher openings.

  After almost two weeks of the relentless work sch
edule, plus plenty of late, sexy nights with Adrien, she felt like she needed a day-long nap.

  But there wasn’t time for that. Once Adrien found his wife, she’d be back to square one. And her main goal was to have a job lined up once the income from this gig ended. With any luck, she could skip returning to catering altogether, and make a seamless transition from wife scout to biology teacher.

  Once her laptop came to life, new e-mail notifications waited for her at the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. She clicked over eagerly, hopeful, as she was each day, that it was news on the wife or job hunt.

  Five new e-mails—two spam, two coupons for stores she’d splurged at recently, and one from an address ending in .edu.

  Fear cinched her belly. Schools sometimes responded just to say they weren’t interested in interviewing. Courteous yet heartbreaking. Her mouse hovered over the e-mail. A preview popped up: Dear Ms. Gables. We are pleased to inform you that we are eager to…

  She yelped, clicking on the e-mail. She read it as quickly as she could, skipping over at least half to find the keywords: we would like to schedule an interview at your earliest convenience. Please call us immediately to set a day and time with our human resources department.

  Disbelief mingled with joy made a slow, steady crawl throughout her body. “Holy fuck.” She reached for her phone, firing off a text to Katy with far too many exclamation points. And then she called Adrien.

  “A two o’clock phone call from my mistress.” His rich voice was a relief. It was only hours since she’d last heard it, and she was desperate for it again. “To what do I owe such an honor?”

  “I have good news.” The words tumbled out of her in a rush.

  “What is it?”

  She swallowed a shriek. “I got an interview.”

  He whooped from the other end of the phone. “That’s fantastic!” His French accent flourished on that word, maybe due to his excitement. She swooned a little. “I’m so happy to hear this…and quite proud. Shall we celebrate?”

  “You have a date tonight.” She fanned herself. “We can have a glass of wine another time. It’s okay. I just wanted to share the news.”

  “You’re coming over tonight, right?”

  She paused. God help her, she wanted to. But was she just fanning the flames of an eventual heartbreak? “I mean…”

  “You must. We have to celebrate.”

  When she didn’t respond right away, he added, “Or I can come to your place. And I’ll cancel the blind date.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “No need to do that. You still have your deadline, after all…”

  “Fine. Let’s meet after the blind date. My place or yours?”

  She couldn’t fight the grin. “Yours. After all, most of my clothes are still there…”

  “Perfect. I’m so happy for you, Clara. We’ll talk all about it later.”

  She hung up the phone, staring into the distance, excitement and trepidation making equal footsteps inside her. Her first step was clear: call the human resources department and set a firm interview date.

  And though the next step seemed clear, she was suddenly unsure. All she wanted to do was be around Adrien. Spending another night with him, wrapped in his arms, was perhaps the only way she wanted to spend the evening.

  But it would all be ending soon. The perks would fade, alongside the companionship. This was all doomed to end. And she would do well to remember that.

  ***

  Later that night, Clara was readying herself for Adrien’s return to the penthouse. She’d cooked herself a small dinner while he was on his blind date, so by the time he got home they’d both be ready for drinks and conversation. He’d been texting her throughout the date, silly things that made her laugh while pushing her mind back to the dark spot that plagued her like a rotten spot on fruit. This will end.

  When Adrien breezed through the door, dashing and handsome, still smelling of cologne, she ran into his arms. He picked her up and spun her around. Their shouts filled the foyer of the penthouse.

  “Congratulations, again.” He set her down gently, brushing his thumb over her jawline. “I know you’ll knock the interview out of the park. When did you set it for?”

  “Next week.” She glided over to the kitchen island, where a bottle of wine and two empty glasses awaited them. “When I talked to the woman in HR, she seemed very excited about my resume. I think this is going to go so well.”

  “I have no doubt about it.” Adrien screwed in the wine key and pulled out the cork with a sharp pop. “And then we’ll be celebrating at this time next week once we find out you got the job.”

  The use of we made her heart flutter. “I hope so. This academy ranked in the top twenty best schools in the state, and I found out that if I get hired, my lab will be state of the art. They just invested over a million in updating the science technology at the school.”

  “That’s fantastic!” Adrien poured two glasses, offered one to her, and they clinked. “To new jobs, new ventures, and an exciting future full of accomplishment.”

  They locked eyes as they took a sip. When he set his glass down, she recognized the haze descending over him.

  “Now we can begin the real celebration.” He hooked her at the waist, bringing her hard against his body. She giggled, the wine nearly spilling from the glass.

  “You came home rarin’ to go.”

  He snagged her in a kiss, their tongues meeting sloppily, the faint taste of mint on him. Hooking her wrists behind his neck, she made a small noise as he backed her up against the island, pinning her there.

  “Good news turns me on,” he whispered into her ear, his hot breath sending tingles through her body.

  “Oh, not well-dressed future biology teachers?”

  He laughed. “That too.”

  They shared a passionate kiss, one that made her brain short-circuit. When they parted, she blinked dumbly, lips still parted as though searching for more.

  “Come here.” He grabbed at a wrist and led her to the balcony. Pushing open the glass sliding door, he brought her to the railing overlooking San Francisco. They paused, surveying the inky black sky, the lights of millions of lives around them, and the mysterious, shrouded bay that disappeared into eternity on the horizon.

  ***

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  Adrien wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. She smelled good in a way that was impossible to bottle. “Like you.”

  “Look who’s talking, buddy.”

  He nipped at her earlobe, his cock twitching with anticipation. It seemed he could never get enough of her. More Clara only led to wanting even more. Without a word, he spun her around to face him, backing her up against the reinforced steel barrier.

  “I want you right here,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her forehead. She looked behind her, then down the side of the building. She drew in a low breath.

  “You’re a freak.” She hiked up her skirt, bunching it around her waist. “Let’s do it.”

  He palmed the smooth arc of her ass, biting his lip as he traced the counter of her thigh. Snagging her at the hips, he hoisted her against the thick steel rail of the barrier. She sucked in a breath, her pussy settling against his stiffening cock.

  He made quick work of his pants, unbuckling them so they slid down around his ankles. They gathered in a heap at his feet. He rubbed the thick bulge of his cock against the panties hiding the crease of her pussy. She whimpered, hooking her ankles behind him.

  They shared a soft, passionate kiss, one that made his head go cloudy. Trailing kisses down her neck and over the exposed cleavage pressed against him, he cinched her harder, sealing their bodies like they might be watertight.

  Slipping his cock out of his boxer briefs, he pushed aside the tiny swath of fabric separating them. The tip of his dick nudged her entrance, the heat of her pussy intense enough to bring him to his knees. He drew a ragged breath, desperate to press inside her, bury himself to the hil
t, and find that explosive union that had been present with them since the start.

  “Clara,” he whispered into her ear, nipping at her ear. “What do you think?”

  The nearest condom was in the bathroom. But with her warm, silky body in his arms, stepping away was an impossible task.

  “Fuck me.” Her voice was ragged. She pulled him closer, tensing. “I need it.”

  He hoisted her again, pressing his cockhead against the slick hole, nudging it inside, finding silken heat that welcomed him and urged him deeper and deeper until their pelvises met and he couldn’t find another inch.

  He released a gravely moan, dragging his lips up the side of her neck. They found a sweet, slow but deep rhythm, one that felt intimate like never before. She arched into him, inviting his measured thrusts, letting her head drop back over the precipice of the rail. He held her tighter, watching as she released into their movements while dipping farther over the edge.

  He worked her harder and she snapped up, clutching at his chest, her eyes wild and clear. Snaking a hand beneath her shirt, he sought out the warm flesh of a breast, holding tight as he pounded her, his own orgasm nearing at a run.

  She whimpered, eyebrow creasing. She was close; he knew the signs by now.

  “Come, baby.” He urged her on. “Give it to me. Come on.”

  “Adrien.” His name out almost a whine. Her fingers sunk into the meat of his shoulder. “Don’t stop.”

  Grunting, he increased his pace, sweat staining his brow, his own climax begging to break through. He couldn’t hold out much longer, not like this. She inhaled sharply and then cried out, almost a shriek. Tensing against him, her head lolled back again, dipping over the black steel rail, and he allowed his own orgasm to burst through.

  He pulled himself out of her just before the cum spit out, which made a graceful arc, landing on the brushed cement of the patio. Chest heaving, he nuzzled her exposed cleavage, burying his face in her delicious scent. Her fingers knotted in his hair.

  “Wow.” He loosed his grip, and she slid to the floor.

 

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